A Court of Secrets and Moonlight

70: Run

Feyre

The camp blacksmith did not ask questions when I asked him to craft the circlet with Azriel's siphon and the silver candlesticks from my room. I watched as he worked, letting Rhys strap as many weapons as he could fit underneath the robes that Mor had borrowed from the camp priestess. The blacksmith finished quickly, his fae strength and speed allowing him to craft the diadem faster than any human could. Rhys placed it atop my hood as Azriel sat in the corner, sharpening Gwydion with unyeilding focus.

I could have sworn that my mate could see down to my very soul as he spoke. "There are wards around the camp, thick ones. You will not be able to winnow once inside. You will need to walk in, and walk out."

I nodded, willing steel into my veins.

"They took what is ours, and we do not allow that to go unpunished." He breathed against me, his voice sharp and hard even as he spoke quietly, "You do not falter. You do not yield. You go in, get her, and walk right back out."

I nodded again, squaring my shoulders. Ianthe's body did not move the way mine did, did not make the same expressions I was used to, but Rhys paid it no mind. He did not see her face, was not fooled by my illusion. He saw down to my core, to my very being that was linked inexplicably with his. And I could have sworn I could hear his thoughts just from the look in his eye, knew exactly what he was going to say.

"He will sense your power." I stopped him in his tracks.

"I know." He whispered, "That's the problem. If he can sense mine, he will sense hers."

"He won't." Leur spoke from behind us, causing us both to jump.

I had not heard her arrive, had not heard a singular footstep coming our way. Leur was clad in Hybern armor, the familiar crest stamped in the chest of the metal, a hood pulled up over her face, a swath of fabric that could cover her face pulled around her neck. Golden eyes peered out where violet should be, not glowing like I had seen before, just simply golden. There were no violet shadows swirling around her, only a tiny swath of black hidden in the shadow of her cloak.

"He is looking for Night Court shadows." Leur spoke, her voice slightly different than before, "And he will find only light."

Rhys just blinked at her, "Where did you get that armor?"

"It is mine." Leur smiled at him, teasing, "You don't like it?"

From the look on my mate's face, he detested it. Hated seeing Leur this way, hated the reminder of his own failure- or what he perceived to be his failure.

"You look beautiful in anything." Azriel stood, handing her blade to her and placing a soft kiss against her temple.

She nudged her head against his shoulder before turning back to me, "You ready?"

I nodded, sparing Rhys one last glance before taking her hand. Leur pulled the fabric of her scarf over her face, a blink and her eyes had been glamoured to pure black. Just like Amarantha and the King, like everyone I had the displeasure of meeting from Hybern.

"You get them in and out again, Prince." Rhys looked at Azriel, "The three of you go in, and four of you come out. I don't care how many of them you have to kill to do it."

Azriel gave him a firm nod, "I swear it, High Lord."

Formal names, formal titles. As if the situation were dire enough that it warranted that seriousness, that formality that our Inner Circle had prided ourself in not displaying. I took one last glimpse at Rhys as Azriel's power wrapped around us, dark black shadows swirling.

"Remember that you are a wolf, and you cannot be caged."

I gave him one final nod, and we were gone.